


No, Your Majesty

by BlooBlu



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety Symptoms, Logan needs a break tbh, M/M, Midevil times ish, Play Fighting, Roman is being the best friend he is, Social Anxiety, Swords, Weapons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:22:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21626755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlooBlu/pseuds/BlooBlu
Summary: Virgil is a Prince, and is in need of a new guard and or poison tester,Logan wants to train under the Prince's historian for a few years,And sometimes compromises are made in trying times such as these.
Relationships: Analogical - Relationship, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

Logan has spent a lot of time alone. Not because he is without family, or a few friends. He just prefers it that way. He likes it best when he is alone in a quiet space, able to read and learn and write. 

Because he has to. He _has to_. If he doesn't study, and get smarter, smarter than all of his peers - he won't have a chance. _His family won't have a chance._

He is the youngest of 3 sons, and their father had died in battle some time ago. His brothers and mother already had jobs - he does too, a small clerking position at an inn not far from home. Daniel, the oldest, cannot afford to quit work and resume his education, for he makes most of their earnings and without him they would quickly lose their home. Samuel also cannot resume education, for he hardly ever attended at all and would never catch up now, in his late teenage years.

So it had to be Logan. He _has_ to get smarter and smarter and get a great job, and pay for his family to finally live in comfort. To live in peace, safe from the sick and safe from starvation.

He was 8, and he knew this fact very well - had learned it long ago. In another life, he may have simply stroven to be productive and speak intelligently; But here and now, he had to be the best. Had to be better than all of them so that he could live, so that he and his family could _all_ live.

//// 

Virgil had to be strong. He had to be strong in every way imaginable because he was a prince, and one day would be a king. He had to be strong in mind, body, and heart, as his father said.

He has to be strong, because he is the only son of 7 children. His father and mother had tried so many times, and each birth had failed to bring an heir - until him. (And he had been the one that killed her, one too many one too late -)

So he had to be perfect. There would be no more sons, not in time to take over the throne. There could be no one else but him. So he read, and he fought, and he spoke - did all that he could. Even when he was lighting the 5th candle in a night to keep up with his studies.  
Even when after every sword fighting lesson he had blisters and bruises and felt like absolute garbage. Even when every conversation and mock speech made him feel such terror and embarrassment that he could hardly finish two sentences.

Virgil knew that he had to do this. He was 10, but the weight of the world was on his shoulders. He would persevere, if only because he knew nothing else. He would take each next step, if only for his mother who had died for him to happen, and he couldn't let her down now. Couldn't let _any_ of them down.


	2. Chapter 2

Life goes on. Logan grows up. He gets through the rest of his basic schooling, and seems to all those around him like a bewitched man - working day and night to turn in assignments and complete tests and take notes on lectures, all with outstanding results. 

Of course, they all assumed he would pursue higher education, perhaps mentoring under some scholar, or travelling abroad to learn a new language. 'Something like that,' they all thought. 'That's one smart kid who'll go places, un-likes any of us.' 

They were sort of right. Logan wanted very badly to train under the palace's artificer, Valarie. Some smaller minded folk called her a wizard, but Logan knew that miss Torres-Rosario was merely a very well-versed historian and journal keeper. 

Ever since he'd first read a few copies of her works, heard tales of all the academies she had attended and every intellectual achievement- he had wanted to learn under her. To be as great as her. Yes, some if it was a childish admiration for a larger-than-life figure, but he was genuinely excited to learn more, regardless of who from. (Logan knew, he just knew that with her recommendation, he could get a position as grand artificer or similar status, and his family could move with him into better lodgings, with better food, _a better life_.)

He would submit his application for an apprenticeship in the spring, as was customary. In the meantime he would gather what influence and certifications he could, and perhaps his name could reach the palace before he ever arrived.

As much as he hated it, sometimes all one could do was prepare with no real instruction. And perhaps a little hope, too, could go a long way.

////

Virgil didn't really think he needed more people with weapons in his general vicinity, but his father didn't seem to agree. As a prince, he (and his family) had always had food-testers around during each meal to make sure no one was poisoned. If he'd thought it weird once, it was completely normal now. And now his father was trying to get him a personal guard, someone to basically follow him everywhere and "keep him safe."

_"You're going to be king soon, Virgil. We both know I don't have many years left and there's bound to be people who try to cause an upset during the transfer of power. I don't want you taking food from anyone, going out alone - even if just for an hour - and I especially don't want to hear any whining from you when you are 19 years of age. Do you understand?"_

_"...Yes, father."_

_"We will look into finding a suitable applicant next month, when spring has truly set in. Go now, and stay with your studies. I will not have you slacking, as your tutors describe. You are an adult, not a pig farmer."_

_"Yes, father… don't be so quick to speak as if on your deathbed, please."_

He wasn't exactly excited to have someone ready to throw their life away for him, _or worse, try to kill him when no one was looking, clearly the best opportunity for an inside job-_ but he couldn't really protest to it, either. So in a few weeks, Virgil would be meeting likely a dozen or so warriors from around their little coast - trying to sus out who would make the best warrior and or personal personal poison tester. 

...Virgil may be used to these things, (a little too much in his opinion) but that didn't mean he _liked_ knowing that any day, Delighla or Ranson or Kannete might take a bite of fish and fall over, dead. That any day, Jonnes or Gus might try a sip of wine and start foaming at the mouth. That Henry and Kola and Marco would all fall over each other running to take a blade or an arrow for him. 

His older sisters didn't understand why he knew so many of their staff my name. Why he attended the funeral of one of their kitchen staff's son. Why he cared so much, or at all. Missy and Yvette, the youngest of his siblings, understood fully. They knew just as many, (if not more) names that he did. Knew how each one of them was important, almost more so than the royal family and it's court all together.

Each life that worked to serve his family was hugely important - without them there wouldn't _be_ a royal family, at this point. No kingdom without citizens in it. Just as much as a society needed leaders, it needed people to be lead.

…He just hoped he could get that into all of their heads, someday. And in the meantime, he'd just try not to let anyone die for him. Easy enough, right?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did ya know the copy I have saved of this series is actually called "Yes, your majesty"?  
> Don't remeber what prompted the change but here we are.

Today was the day. Spring was in full swing now, his letters sent to the palace weeks ago. The reply had come slow, leaving him and his family anxious for the near month his application had gone unaddressed. It was mid-April when he finally received an answer. The letter was… less than encouraging, but did not expressly deny his request. His mother thought it sounded a little foreboding, even.

Logan Clarke, 

A caravan will arrive to pick you up on the 28th day of May. It is time to prove your ambitions through actions, as well as your words. 

-The Royal Artificer and her craftsmen.

Of course the letter was terribly vague, but Logan didn't see any reason to think it sinister. He simply had to prove his worthiness to Her grace. 

Perhaps he could cut back on those sugary ciders his mother liked to make… he trembled in a way that surely was only a rush of too much energy at once. It did not pay to be nervous, afterall. So he couldn't be.

////

Why do adventurers have to be so…. _loud?_ And more annoying than pixies on a Saturday? 

The first half dozen or so who had requested to take up this new… position at the palace had been mostly talk and seemed more ready to fight that anything else. All swordsmen, or in one case a women with an excessively large hammer. 

Virgil seemed to be the only one upset my this, as technically this was to be a food taster position. There were plenty of people with swords and crossbows inside already… and the other dozen or so applicants that were qualified for that half of the job couldn't hold a weapon to defend themselves, let alone someone else at the same time.

Around midday there was a break for lunch before and the viewing was over for that day. Anyone else who still wanted to try would come back at some point over the next few days.

"You seem upset about something, little _genip_."

"How many times have I told you not to call me that, _līcettere baldor?_ "

"Enough times to know that you still love it because your my closest friend since we were very small."

Roman was also an adventurer of sorts, and twice as aggravating as anyone Virgil had seen today. But he wasn't wrong… they'd been playing together and learning together since they could walk. Roman's mother was one of his tutors for quite some time as a child, and they both lived in the palace so it was guaranteed they would meet. Roman's mother and Virgil's father had agreed a long time ago that as long as he showed some measure of aptitude, Roman would serve as a knight in the palace when he grew up. And he had far surpassed Virgil in a matter of weeks into their first lesson.

It had lead to a bit of a rivalry for a few years… one that somewhat continued to this day. Eventually his family had learned that all the groaning and fake punching was just how they showed each other affection; even if Virgil continued to shove perfect-scored tests in the face of anyone around when Roman could see, and Roman would be sure to knock Virgil off his feet just as soundly each time in front of however many he could invite to their little spars.

"...So you want to tell me what's wrong or not, _genip_? You can trust me with anything, you know." 

"I just don't care for anyone who came in today. Too loud… and too ready to try and prove themselves. Like you, but without the stupid sash. You aren't officially even a _baron _, stupid līcettere."__

__"Not _yet,_ you mean. I have it on good word that Adria intends to propose."_ _

__"No way. No. Not gonna let you marry my sister, it's the code of blood brothers."_ _

__"Wait another year and you could start calling me _tácot_." _ _

__"Shut up!"_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genip - a cloud, particularly a storm cloud
> 
> Licettere - an impostor  
> Baldor - a prince 
> 
> Tácot - a brother by marriage. A step-brother.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long!! I've been travelling for the holidays and there has been dismal internet access- but tomorrow I'll be home and have lots of time to write!
> 
> I know this is also super short, but I sort of just wanted to post something, you know? I needed a little bit of an interlude before the big stuff.

Royal caravans are so… dangerous. Why would you line the doors with gold when there are only two men, hardly older than _bearns_ , with swords clearly too heavy for their hands to defend it?

Not that Logan was particularly worried about the safety of fools who were taught to wield weapons over their own brains… but he would be travelling with them for the better part of the morning and would rather not be stabbed in the back before reaching the palace.

Voicing these complaints would amount to nothing, however; the _castel Strom_ is hours away from his dwellings - refusing to come along with such an obvious target on their backs would simply appear as a refusal to meet with miss Torres-Rosario. Which would not only be incredibly rude and counterproductive to his goals, but would guarantee poor favor on his family in future.

...Logan might not be especially proficient in combat, but a few samples of giant hogweed wouldn't hurt. If the worst came he would try to escape first, and blind his attackers if they got too close. 

////

Valarie wasn't always available to hang out, but Virgil found that made the occasions where they could have tea together even more special. She was funny and kind, and an excellent singer - it was a bit of a sore spot for her, though. Valarie had wanted to travel the country and sing in taverns, living day to day - (at least, according to Virgil's sisters) but her parents had been very adamant about having her work in the palace, as the Torres family had for several generations now. Not that being the Royal Artificer was _bad_ , and Valerie had quite a talent for it, but very few grow up wishing to read and write all day.

"-a student coming by this afternoon. Virgil? Still down on _eorþ_ with me?" 

"Ah, sorry - no, I wasn't. What's this about your students?"

"I have a hopeful apprentice coming in this afternoon. His accomplishments are commendable and he at least writes rather intelligently but… I couldn't get a real idea of his personality, you know? None of his recommendations seemed to note his social skills at all. So I'm meeting with him later today to see if he's truly a good fit to be one of my students."

"I remember you kicking out a few rambunctious _bearns_ attempting to sit within your prestige. And a few older ones that were too stupid in their hearts."

Valarie nodded. "A skilled mind is useless if you are not _manþwære_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bearns - Children, babies 
> 
> Castel Strom - Castle Strom. Virgil's family name is Strom
> 
> Eorþ - Earth, Terra
> 
> Manþwære - humane, kind
> 
> This is all old english by the way! This is England, ~the middle ages. There isn't exactly magic or dragons and I'm also not using any real reference for what is and isn't supposed to be around right now! Sorry for yall from TFANSIS who appreciate historical accuracy but I'm all googled out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some insight into some of the other sides. I'm not sure if I'll include anyone else but if there's someone you'd really like to see the perspective of for this fic, feel free to let me know in a comment :)

Roman could recognize that he is not the… most intellectual of men. He likes to think he can keep up somewhat with his peers, he went through nearly all the same schooling as his prince! They'd been raised side by side and somehow the little _genip_ had gotten all of the brains and almost as much brawn as himself.

Not that he was jealous, not really. They were like brothers, Virgil would never hold such things above him other than in idle jest. 

But, no matter how well he could keep up with the common man on the subject of science and maths, the conversation he was overhearing was simply… above him. This young man - Mr. Clarke - was so well spoken and passionate! Surely his brain rivaled that of Lady Torres-Rosario, a worthy student if Roman had ever seen one. Their current debate was of something chemical and decidedly boring in any other context, but they reverent way Clarke spoke of formulas and figures would make one think of a lovesick boy. 

At the end of the day Mr. Clarke took his leave for home again. Lady Torres-Rosario was known among those less common for her good judge of character. Being the life of the party she somehow always had time to look underneath the masks of those around her. Of course, having several hours of private conversation would be enough for her to get the life story of just about anyone.

"Do you think he'll be rejoining us in the _castel_ very soon, my Lady?"

"...I'm not so sure, Roman." 

His brows tightly furrowed in the greatest confusion he'd felt in a while, Roman asked her why that was so.

"He has all the brain of one hundred great scholars, but a heart of solid metal."

////

Patton's life is, and always will be simple. Every day he would early to wake and late to bed, working to make bread and churn butter and filter milk through the cheesecloth, and sell these things when not making or preserving them. (Save for Saturdays, for in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested on the seventh day. Therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy.)

It was simple, honest work and gave him everything he could need. 

…And yet his mother and father could not be content in his unwed status. So what if he hadn't found a wife yet, he wasn't yet 20 years old and there would be plenty of time for children later. He washes his hands and keeps away from meat, the plague won't take him any time soon.

Though frankly, a wife isn't what Patton wants. Children are wonderful, of course, but he has other siblings to pass down their blood and besides his eyes were set on another young man. Such things weren't illegal or even generally frowned upon, but it is considered generally shameful to not want children.

If he ever gained the courage and young Mr. Clarke returned his affections, Patton would happily pluck children off of the streets like a _becolaep_ and raise them as his own to appease his neighbors.

...If only he could be certain of Daniel's orientations. He could always ask around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...did I fool you? This is an Analogical fic what did you expect 
> 
> But there might be later conflict between Pat and Lo bc " _dammit patton you can't date my brother, I forbid it_ "
> 
> becolaep - a witch


	6. Chapter 6

'When something bad happens, something good is always just around the corner.'

Logan isn't sure if he should feel horrified in this moment, or vaguely grateful. Miss Torres-Rosario has denied his request to work under her, and worse yet had denied him for his _personality._ He had almost thrown the letter away nearly as soon as he'd finished reading it, but kept it and reread over and over, trying to make sense. 

Why does it matter how kind or sociable he is, what in the world would it matter if he doesn't care for his neighbors or keep many friends?! He had turned away all ideas of a social life when he dedicated his mind and body to the academia! 

And- and she has the _audacity_ to recommend he throw his life away instead! Become a taste-tester for the _ungeríped_ king! His knowledge of local and foreign flora had impressed Miss Torres-Rosario apparently, he would 'recognize toxins more easily and effectively'! He may recognize that he'd consumed the juice from a nightshade berry, but he'd be convulsing and helpless moments later! 

…. 

But the letter that came with it did make the offer sound more bearable, at the least. Sealed and signed by the prince himself. It made few attempts at subtlety in informing him that being a taste tester and impromptu guardsman would grant him and his immediate family lodgings in the palace - where he would be able to speak with their artificer as he pleased when their paths crossed. Not a student, but a colleague of sorts.

Indeed, the offer was much more palatable when explained this way… but he could deal without the endless teasing from his brothers.

"Oh, I'm just as furious as you, babiest brother, I assure you! Spending every day by the side of a handsome prince, eating and sleeping in _castel Strom_ , miles away from the nearest slum... What an outrage!" 

"You know, I've heard rumors that prince Strom doesn't exactly swoon for skirts, if you know what I mean… he's yet marry at nearly 20 years of age-" 

" _swiguqg_ , you damned _etne_!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ungeríped - premature / almost
> 
> Swiguqg - silence/absence of speaking 
> 
> Etne- children


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whooooo it has been a while. Not that I dont have time to write or anything, I think I just kinda charged in and now it's getting harder to think of where to take this. Regardless, I cant see this lasting more than 3 or 5 more chapters.

"...I cannot believe you convinced me to do this."

"Don't worry, you'll be fine! Probably. The rumors surrounding prince Strom aren't actually very plentiful."

"Not helping, Samuel."

"Who said I was trying to be helpful? Just go and get yourself accepted so we can live the cushy palace life, dumbass."

Logan loves his family. He does, really. It's just that on occasion, they can be infuriating imps and he needs to assert some sort of power over his siblings, being the youngest son. And enforcing that power with a staff was perfectly within bounds.

"OW OW OW- STOP IT YOU LITTLE- LOGAN THAT HURTS!! DAMMIT THAT'S   
LIGNUM WOOD YOU BASTARD! HOW ARE YOU EVEN-"

"The louder you scream, the more futile your struggle becomes, Samuel!"

. . . 

Logan couldn't find the energy to be upset this time, when nearly the exact same carriage came to escort him this time. A little more blue, and a little lighter purple, but the same matte black design. He's yet to decide what the slight differences mean, or if they truly mean anything at all. Certainly they couldn't have had the same person paint every last vehicle, and even if they had there were bound to be some inconsistencies. 

The same containers of grounded giant hogweed would stay with him, however, and now accompanying them was a small knife tucked into a sheath strapped to his left arm. It's not as if he _distrusts_ the Castel and its guardsmen, but he does not trust many with the safety of his life. Afterall, if he is going to gift the rights of his life to the prince, he should keep it as _ungedered_ as possible. 

…His mother did sometimes say he was a grim thinker.

////

Virgil is… not sure how to feel. The young man Valarie had mentioned would be meeting him today - Mr. Clarke, right? For some reason his Royal Artificer seemed to think that the _unfród discipul_ would be a good fit for the… newly available job in Castel Strom.

Surely, the young man's academic achievements speak favorably for him, and it would be a pleasant change of pace from the brutes that just planned to get a taste of the royal life and muscle their way through any poisons they come across. Someone with a general certification in medicines would be much appreciated, especially since he couldn't ask for much better brunt force than what Roman already offered him. He didn't need strength, there was plenty enough to go around. But common sense is not so common.

No, he isn't worried that Mr. Clarke won't be suitable as a food and drink tester - he's worried if he'll fit in as a member of the staff. No one spends all that much time alone in the castel, and while some were less lively than others, he'd yet to meet someone who couldn't at least work quietly with their team. From the way Valarie put it, Mr. Clarke was completely unsocial outside of academic debate, or generally intelligent conversation. Virgil could fight with words better than most he knew, but he hardly wants to battle someone he'd be spending so much time with...

. . . 

"Your Highness, it is with blessed honor that I-"

"Mr. Clarke, please, there are ten people in this room and eight of them are knights. You don't have to give the speech, in fact I'd much rather you didn't."

Virgil was, in part, attempting to out this man off his game. The easiest way to tell someone's true character is usually to embarrass them or make them angry, and if Logan Clarke was really so composed as Valarie said, this shouldn't be a problem…   
(He also genuinely hates the near paragraph that citizens attempt to introduce themselves with nowadays, whoever authorized such formal bullshit needs to spend a few weeks hearing it every day.)

"I- well, if that is what you prefer, Your Highness… though I've been made to assume that this was an interview of sorts. If formalities are not how you'd like to proceed, where should I begin?"

Interesting. Polite and concise, made up on the spot most likely. If he continues like this, Virgil might have to start considering Mr. Clark's merits outside of his pretty face- **waitwaitwaitwhat.**

"...I've heard from Lady Torres-Rosario that you're a quick thinker and skilled in both pharmaceuticals and botany. We can start there, I know my fair share of the medical field as well. Consider it a pop quiz."

"Of course, Your Highness."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ungedered - (unmolested, intact, unharmed)
> 
> unfród - (inexperienced, premature) discipul - (student, understudy, ect.)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Because I'm quickly falling behind in other areas of my life rn, I'm gonna wrap this all up in one go. Whoooo boy.**

. . .

It's been 7 months since prince Virgil became King Virgil, and Logan believes that he can finally say it was a change for the better.

It was tough at first, of course. Losing a parent is often not easy, and His Majesty's death was particularly… graphic. They no longer used those bedchambers, it was condemned by nearly every healer who had seen Edmund Strom. Too much sickness, death claimed the room for its own.

But Virgil, as strong and determined as he was, moved past it. He grew into his role of king nicely, and was understanding if not downright benevolent. The kingdom had always been peaceful, but now it was not suffering as much economically as it had been to obtain that peace. Most of this was due to Virgil not caring to live very lavishly, and most of his sisters were married now so they couldn't complain.

. . .

Roman was always an endless pain, but now he was a _smug,_ endless pain; though a promotion would do that to a lot of people, Logan supposed. Not that head of the royal guard was any small achievement, but he could still be a little less _gilplíc_ about it…

"Me? _ungerád_? Logan, dear, I think you're being a little hypocritical!"

"...how so?"

"You stole my brother from me!"

"Good God, we aren't yet married - if you so object, you could simply challenge me to a duel of honor and kill me first."

"..."

"But I know you wouldn't do that, because you consider me a _tácot_ already."

"...Now _that_ was smug, Logan."

. . .

Yes, he and Virgil are romantically involved. It's nothing so crude as others have insinuated, they simply both recognized their feelings for each other as more than platonic. No one had proposed, and Logan would be perfectly content if they never did. Plenty of kings and queens were known for keeping same-sex partners in private and never marrying. 

…Though if Virgil were ever to decide he wanted to marry, whether or not it was to Logan, it's not like anyone could stop him. He could change whatever laws he needed to make it happen, even if it meant, ah… ignoring the _angelcyrice_ and making a number of people rather upset. 

But, as said before, Logan is content with what he has now. His mother and brothers are doing well, not so hungry or tired from constant labor. Their lodgings are nicer and their overall quality of life is simply better. His brother, Daniel, had apparently met someone when visiting their hometown awhile back. A kind Baker who made him happy.

Samuel was not as lucky, but was happy living the life of a traveler. Every few weeks he would take his horse, Honeycomb, a sack of supplies, and leave for a few months; each time in a slightly different direction. It was what he wanted to do with his life, and if romance wasn't a part of it Logan could respect that choice. 

His mother still loves to do some honest work in her life, something physical that she can step back and appreciate the fruits of afterwards. Mostly baking and tailoring, all for her and her family and friends - no longer grueling work for money, but just to make her loved ones happy. 

Logan is Ms. Torres-Rosario's number two, though work isn't always as exciting as ge would have thought. It's a lot of transcribing, and his hands are often cramped. Callouses have formed on his fingers where he constantly presses his quill against them, and frankly he doesn't know what he would do if he could not switch back and forth between them. Part of the reason he must write so much is because Valarie's right hand shakes now, and she cannot write with her left. She is not exactly _old_ , but she's getting older.

Virgil, rather embarrassingly, likes to take time to kiss Logan's hands before bed. "To make them feel better," he says. It is not unpleasant, but Logan is very flustered each time and thinks he might faint from all of the pampering from his partner.

Jewels, gold and silver, imported silks and other finery always find their ways into Logan's dressers when he never bought any himself. Virgil takes extreme pride in placing a silver necklace with a sapphire in the shape of the Strom crest around Logan's neck each morning. 

In turn, Logan will write endless poetry and declarations of affection to be read by servants aloud to Virgil at any hour of the of. He'll pick and trim the thorns/spines off flowers and leave them at Virgil's bedside, brew sweet smelling tea and (attempt to) play music.

…yes, Logan is quite happy with what he has now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is! ...the last chapter.


End file.
